Two Peasants and a President
Page 38
******
Nuan’s parents were not to be denied the opportunity of participating in what was being planned and no amount of pleading on Nuan’s part could dissuade them. Riding inconspicuously in the back of a taxi, the two elderly revolutionaries of another age had between them on the floor of the taxi a box containing what was hoped would be an unexpected surprise for the authorities. They and others like them were busy delivering their packages to other dissidents in key locations across the city. Two and one half hours remained before the hidden video file would be activated on thousands of tablets, laptops and video consoles across the city and elsewhere.
Everything must be in place before then.
******
When he heard the steel door at the end of the hall being opened, he hoped it meant something to eat. The night and early morning had passed with nothing but the faint footsteps of someone switching on the light from outside, which he took to mean it was morning. This time he heard a key being inserted in the lock. The door swung open without revealing anyone. Then a head peered warily around the door frame before two police officers, side arms drawn entered, aiming their guns at the American. He was ordered to turn around and face the wall while a third man cuffed his hands behind him.
These guys are a little nervous, thought Brett. I hope they don’t plan on me eating breakfast with my hands behind my back. Then again, maybe they don’t plan on me eating breakfast at all.
The now familiar sound of the steel door at the end of the hall announced the arrival of someone else. An officious looking man clad in a lab coat festooned with a stethoscope and carrying a clipboard appeared in the doorway, pausing to stare at the American before entering. Of slender build, he wore his hair short, as might a military man, but his bearing did not suggest a background in the army, rather an air of intellect. His almost perfect English did not detract from that.
“Good morning, Mr. Walker,” he said. “I am doctor Wong and I am here to do a routine screening. You will not be injured in any way unless, of course, you attempt to resist, in which case your examination will be performed with you on your back and unconscious.”
“Whatever would make you think I’d resist?” quipped Brett.
“Actually, I am assuming you won’t because in addition to being drugged, you would also be deprived of the food that awaits you after your examination,” replied the doctor.
“As long as it’s steak and eggs, examine away,” said Brett. “Oh, did I tell you, I like my steak rare?”
“A thoroughly American sense of humor, I see,” the doctor replied.
******
Admiral Wu’s stern expression did not betray his excitement; it never did. Dour perhaps best described the perpetual look he wore, at least in front of his subordinates. Even the hair on his broad head appeared to be standing at attention, as if in fear of an insubordinate act. As his taskforce neared the convoy, he could see a nervous mix of anticipation and dread on the faces of his bridge officers. From time to time a smile would flicker across one of their faces, draining away for a moment the tension that all men feel before battle. Their first naval engagement would commence in less than one-half hour.
Had the admiral been a sentimental man, he might have felt sorry for the Vietnamese officers aboard their frigates. Their countermeasures had proven useless against the YJ-82 anti-ship missile and they would soon find themselves helpless against another onslaught, which they could neither jam electronically nor shoot down with their point defense weapons. Unlike previous attacks, which had been launched from a hidden submarine, his destroyers would be the first to fire in a bold proclamation of their awesome power.
President Li Guo Peng no longer cared to leave any doubt as to the identity of the attackers. On the contrary, he wanted the world to know what his magnificent navy could do to anyone who challenged it. Admiral Wu would first sink the Vietnamese frigates and when their carcasses had slipped beneath the waves, he would approach to within point blank range of the container ship and sink her with his deck guns. Why waste an expensive missile? She would make excellent target practice. He did not envy its crew, deprived of their escorts and watching helplessly as the instrument of their death drew near. When he had watched with satisfaction as the container ship burned then sank, he would turn and parade before the US 7th Fleet to mock their impotence.
All systems had been checked and rechecked. Electronics aboard the anti-ship missiles had been tested. The deck gun had been test fired. Defensive systems and fire-control systems were in perfect working order and the destroyers twin gas turbine engines rated at 48,600 hp were driving her forward at more than 30 knots. In thirty minutes he would broadcast an order for the convoy to turn back. When they ignored the order, he would repeat it one more time before sinking them. The bridge was almost silent, its crew focused intently on their tasks as the clock ticked down.
The admiral did not notice the flashing light on the communications console and was startled when his first officer approached him and saluted.
“Yes, what is it?” the admiral snapped.
“Priority one flash message,” replied the first officer.
“Read it to me!”
“To Admiral Wu Aiying, commander Destroyer Lanzhou. From Admiral Chen Lei, commander PLA Navy. American carrier battle group has changed course and is entering the Taiwan Strait. Your destroyers are ordered to detach from taskforce and come about. Make full speed to intercept American 7th Fleet. Frigates accompanying you are to complete the mission, along with supporting submarines. End.”
The admiral’s face visibly reddened as he struggled to control himself. Minutes from a historic moment, both for the PLA Navy and for himself, he was being ordered to come about. He did not know what the 7th Fleet’s intentions were, but by traversing the Taiwan Strait they would of necessity be close to the Chinese coast. He could not conceive of the Americans mounting an attack literally from under the Chinese guns or that they would dare to attack the offshore oil rigs in their path. Their actions made no sense whatsoever. It had to be a bluff and now he had been ordered to respond to it. Only a fool would order such a move and he knew who that fool was.
Li has panicked and ordered Admiral Chen to recall his destroyers. Chen would have recognized it for what it was and called the Americans’ bluff. That fool Li is once again playing with his military toys, of which he understands nothing. Idiot!
“Order the frigates to challenge the convoy and sink them if unheeded,” he said to his first officer. Then to his exec he said:
“Bring the ship about.”
Admiral Wu was angrier than he had ever been, but unlike his president, he was a man with steel nerves and the professionalism to follow orders. He would intersect with the 7th Fleet, in what they claim to be international waters, and they would proceed on their course, a blatant display of their contempt for China‘s declaration of sovereignty over the South China Sea. Li would not have the guts to order his ships to force the Americans to turn around and thus he would once again be shamed, and shame his navy as well. Only the frigates and submarines would get any glory this day. The admiral clenched his jaw as he began a return trip that would take hours, all the while allowing the Americans a lengthy, unopposed cruise along China’s southern coast.
67
It was one of the rare moments when Lee Ming had the apartment to herself. In less than an hour, her mother would arrive home and tell her to get started on her studies. Then it would be help with dinner and clean up afterward and then more studies and so on until the evening was over and it was time for bed. Until recently her mother didn’t get home till almost six, but with the factory’s shorter hours she felt lucky just to have a job at all. Her father drove a truck and his hours, like those of his wife, had been cut.
But Ming was young and carefree and, as any sixteen year old girl, was happy to be able to enjoy a moment of privacy. She slipped her favorite DVD into the player and began to dance, feasting her eyes on the extravagant and
suggestive graphics that accompany most 21st century music videos. Ten minutes later, having just completed, at least in her mind, a wonderful dance sequence with one of the sexiest boys in school, she was still deep in the moment as she awaited the next track.
In her pleasant reverie, she at first equated the unusual sound as the untimely arrival of her parents and started to snatch the DVD out of the player. Then she realized that the sound had come not from the front door, but from the speakers themselves. Intrigued and puzzled by this unexpected occurrence, she watched as a conservatively dressed female, seated behind a desk as a newscaster might, suddenly appeared on the screen and began to speak:
“Dear fellow citizens, there is nothing wrong with your television or your media. You are watching a file that has been deliberately hidden until this moment and is now being revealed to you in a desperate plea for your help. You do not need to be told that many Chinese citizens are in deep trouble now, with factories closing and millions being laid off. In fact, you may be watching this because you are unemployed, wondering if you will still have a place to come home to in the coming months.”
“You are not alone, and you are not at fault. The actions of a few in your government are responsible for the trouble in which we and our beloved nation find ourselves. In the second century of freedom for much of the world, we in China still suffer under the repression of a group of old men who would return us to the days of emperors, a time when citizens could be imprisoned or even killed for the crime of speaking their minds. President Li Guo Peng can never be allowed to become an emperor because China is no longer the Middle Kingdom. It is no longer isolated from the rest of the world so that its bloodthirsty rulers can brutalize and enslave its people in secret.”
“Our leaders fear the truth because it shines its light into their dark corners, exposing the lies they tell to keep themselves in power. They imprison thousands of us in secret prisons for the crime of speaking the truth.”
“Dear fellow citizens, the truth cannot be a crime, anymore than an emperor can say the sun is not the sun or the moon is not the moon. The sun and moon are in the sky for all to see, and not even an emperor can hide them. Only those whose motives are evil hide the truth. Only those who are afraid of what it says about them attempt to conceal it.”
“Today we find ourselves at a juncture. America and the rest of the world are telling our leaders that they can no longer rule by deceit and fear. They must allow us to speak freely as enlightened nations do. We must trade fairly and prosper due to hard work and ingenuity, not dishonesty. Li Guo Peng has responded with force, sinking other nations’ ships, murdering sailors and simple fishermen.”
“We cannot expect other nations to do for us what we must do for ourselves. Only the Chinese people can change China. In 1989 we came very close to democracy. It was only at the last minute that the government chose to crush us in order to save themselves. But today is different. Today the world watches. Today the world opposes force with trade sanctions, sanctions that are working. Our leaders know they are running out of time, yet they choose violence in a last desperate attempt to stop the inevitable.”
“The government can no longer crush us as they did in Tiananmen Square because America and others would further curtail trade. A courageous United States senator speaks nobly and courageously, and our government responds by attempting to assassinate him. With that brave senator’s help and with the help of the internet, cell-phones, camcorders and computers, we can and will be heard. A million censors cannot silence our voices. But we must first lift those voices. We must mingle them into a chorus that rises over the very thunder and lightning in the sky.”
“I urge you to go into the streets and join your fellow citizens in peaceful repudiation of tyranny. You will find other citizens already there who will instruct you in how to first contain the police and army and then convince them that they are us and we are them. We must take great care not to injure or kill them in spite of what they do to us. Otherwise we will become like them and we will have lost our way.”
“Victory is in our hands. Go forth and claim it, dear citizens. Love each other.”
Lee Ming was stunned. One minute she was expecting to hear the next track of her favorite group; the following minute her world was turned on its head. Was the video created by the police? Could they somehow know who had listened to it? She glanced at the door, a knot of fear twisting in the stomach of a simple sixteen year old girl whose innocent pleasure had somehow trapped her. She began to shake uncontrollably as her mind raced, struggling to understand how she had suddenly been caught up in the dangerous world of the dissident movement. The image of the dreaded police forced its way into her mind.
There are more than 2 million police in China, the result of the authorities’ bid to maintain ‘stability’ at any cost. The largest and most feared police force is the PAP (People’s Armed Police), who wear a green uniform similar to that worn by the army. In times of unrest they are frequently called to assist the army in putting down demonstrations. They are greatly feared by the population for the beatings and torture they inflict.
Lee Ming looked down at her feet; they were frozen in place. She could never remember being so afraid. She looked over at the DVD player. It had seemed like a friend before, the images and music emanating from it providing joy, escape from the dreary, allowing her to dream of wonderful things, exciting people. Now she wondered if it had always been an instrument of the government, just waiting for the opportunity to entrap her. She didn’t know what to do, but something inside her needed to share her misery.
With trepidation, she opened the apartment door and peered down the hall, first one way and then the other. It was empty, no one there to point the finger of guilt at her. One of her closest friends lived on the third floor and she desperately wanted to learn if her friend had used her DVD player recently and, if so, what had happened. She almost wet herself as she stood trembling in front of the elevator, hoping that when it opened there would be no police officers standing there. They had already come to her apartment block though not to her floor. A young person on another floor had been dragged away in the middle of the night, terrifying everyone in the building.
The elevator contained only an old man with a small carry bag, obviously on his way to market. He stared at her for a moment and her heart raced. But when she got off on her friend’s floor he did not follow. She told herself she was being silly, but the fear did not budge. Pausing at her friend’s door to listen, but hearing nothing, she knocked and waited. No one came.
Ming Lee now knew that she would have to go out onto the street. She simply had to know if there were others who had watched the message. As the elevator descended to the lobby, she was breathing in short fast breaths watching the numbers – 9,8,7 . . . 3,2,1. The doors parted, revealing only a woman with her hand in a mailbox and a man in front of the next elevator. Again she told herself that she was being silly, but the words were hollow.
On the other side of the thick glass doors the traffic and the people seemed to be going on their way as usual, cars honking, people on bicycles weaving in and out, buses puffing oily black smoke into the air. It all seemed so normal and yet there was still something about it that she dreaded intensely, as if it were all a play, designed by the government to lull people into a false sense of security until they could be ferreted out and captured.
Finally, she took a deep breath and opened the door.
******
The sudden change was startling, not only for Admiral Wu who was now heading north at battle speed to meet the 7th Fleet, but for Captain Geng Huichang aboard the Yulin, one of the two Type 053H3 (Jiangwei-II Class) 375 foot missile frigates that had been accompanying the destroyers. Five minutes ago he was expected to back up the admiral’s destroyers. Now he must complete the mission with only the help of his sister ship, the Yuxi.
It was a capable warship, to be sure, and he would not have been honored with such a position had he not comp
leted his training and years of service with distinction. But watching the fantails of the two great destroyers recede as they sped north was disconcerting, though he would never allow his subordinates to see it on his face. He reminded himself that the Vietnamese frigates had been unable to prevent the submarine-launched YJ-82 anti-ship missile from slamming into the container ship and sinking her. And he carried aboard the YJ-83, a missile with the capabilities of the YJ-82, but with considerably more speed.
There was one other thing: Captain Geng Huichang had never killed anyone. When he’d thought about it in the past, it had always been in the context of defending his country, something he knew he would do without hesitation. But the convoy was hundreds of miles off the Chinese coast and even though his government had decided that almost a million and a half square miles of ocean bordering several other nations was its sovereign territory, it didn’t make sense. It reminded him of the actions of another nation in another time.
In the 1930’s, Japan had invaded China on a pretext, the way most invasions begin. What followed was bombing, rape, pillage, and murder on a grand scale, simply because Japan wanted something they didn’t have and decided to take it. China suffered horribly, by its own account sustaining 35 million dead. When WWII ended, there were still over 1 million Japanese soldiers in China. Captain Geng had thought about that many times and had come to the conclusion that China had no more right to the South China Sea than Japan had to China. They simply wanted it.